Hartfield's Landing
by joanna77
Summary: What did Donna do in Hartfield's Landing during the first campaign? Read to find out.


**Hartfield's Landing**

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The office looks good. We are back to New Hampshire, and if you ask me why you can ask again. Every time I think I finally figured this business out, something comes up and I'm clueless again. Anyway, here we are, back in New Hampshire! Don't get me wrong, I do like New Hampshire. The Granite State. Home of Josiah Bartlet, Robert Frost and Jodi Picoult. And the state's motto: 'Live free or die'. Very inspiring. And let me just state this, I simply love New Hampshire maple syrup, I'd never use any other maple syrup on my pancakes. Hmm, pancakes! I don't remember when I had pancakes for breakfast. Or I do remember I just don't want to remember. It was waaaaay before April. And we want to forget what happened before April. Both Josh and I; although, to tell the truth, his reasons might be different from mine.

"Donna!" Josh bellows. Josh always bellows but I don't really mind.

"You know, I'm standing―I don't know―maybe two feet away from you, no need to bellow," I say. Because I don't really mind his bellowing but other people do, and I'm here to keep him in line. And it feels awesomely (or sinfully?) good to reprimand him for these things. Because he is a goddamn genius when it comes to election strategy and he gloats when he wins, and you can only tell him to get a grip on himself or not to bellow because you can't tell him off for anything else. Uh, long thought there, Donna. "What do you want?"

"Why are you wearing a coat in the office?" He forgot. I can tell you that he forgot. The man's brain is like a sieve when it comes to everyday things like meetings or lunch time. But ask him about electoral votes or past election results and he can rattle them off off the top of his head.

"I told you yesterday, Joshua," I tell him very patiently. "I told you something yesterday; can you remember what?" I ask him.

"You know, I was a Fulbright scholar, no need to talk to me like I'm a retarded five year old," he huffs.

"So, what did I tell you yesterday, Josh?" I ask him again. Oh, he is so cute when he is flustered and tries to cover it with anger.

"Donna, you told me at least 365 things yesterday, I keep you to remember those things not to quiz me about them."

"Now you tell me," I quip back. "And I thought you keep me for my looks." Okay, that wasn't nice, but once or twice a month I'm allowed to fish for some compliments.

"Okay, Donna, I told you yesterday that you look good and the day before I complimented your shampoo, so could we get back on track?" he says with a tired sigh. Okay, so what if I fish for compliments once or twice a week. Okay, okay! A day. It's not like that he has a clue about women. You have to teach him those things. Maybe that's why Mandy keeps breaking up with him. And now he is rubbing his temples. I gently grab his elbow and lead him back into his office. I offer him an Advil and a bottle of water. He drowns the water like it's whiskey to cover up his sorrows, and I know something big happened. And I have to leave in like ten minutes. I'm so sorry, Josh!

"I told you yesterday that I need to get to Hartfield's Landing. My car was in a crash and I have to…" I start but he interrupts me. No news here. He does this pretty often. Am I offended? Not at all. Why? I don't know. Or maybe I know, just don't want to know. Makes good sense to me.

"You don't have a car." He likes stating the obvious when he knows that he can mock me that way.

"Yeah, I know. Let me finish my sentence. My car was in a crash, and I have to bring over the papers. You know I sold my car back in February, and they can't find the guy who drove my car. So I have to bring over the papers to the sheriff's office," I explain it to him.

"They don't have a fax?" Josh asks and he is right, I was wondering about that too. But hey, I was summoned by the sheriff and I'm a law-abiding citizen of the United States of America.

"I don't know, Josh. They have only 65 people there; maybe they don't have enough money to support a fax. That runs with ink and paper," I remind him. Okay, I don't really want to mock Hartfield's Landing, but it's really ridiculous that I can't send the papers via fax.

"Okay, how long does this take?" Josh asks impatiently.

"I'll be back around eight," I tell him in a whisper, hoping against hope that he wouldn't pick that up.

"What? Do you plan on taking a sightseeing tour? Forget that I asked! It's a village of 65 people, for cryin' out loud! They can't possible have anything to look at."

"Look, I need to catch the bus otherwise I have to take your car and…" I continue, hoping that he gets a clue.

"You can't take my car." No, not much chance of getting a clue. He is hopeless. "You could wreck it like your other car."

"Okay, Josh, forget that the car wasn't mine at the time of the crash," I tell him with a warning undertone, "I wasn't EVEN SITTING IN THE CAR WHEN IT WAS WRECKED!" Okay, so I can yell to. I'm entitled when my boss is playing the dumb schoolboy.

"Geez, Donna, no need to yell. Go to the sheriff's office, take care of this business and then come to the hotel. We have work to do. A person is running for president, we can't play cop-and-robber with the locals," he quips, and I swear to God I could just whack his head right here and now. He can be such a jerk sometimes.

"Okay, I'm outta here!" I say as a way of a goodbye and I'm out of the office before he can say anything else.

I even have to wait for the bus a bit since it's not on time. Great, I can only hope it'll be when I want to come back otherwise Josh will flip. After unearthing my latest Jodi Picoult, I start reading. But it takes some time to get into the book as I have to think about Josh's reaction first. Why didn't he offer me his car? It's very atypical for him. He is usually a gentleman (when he doesn't forget it), and this time I extra reminded him. I make a mental note to check out his car once I get back. Now I can concentrate on my novel.

The ride to Hartfield's Landing is pretty eventless unless you count the little lady who actually bought a ticket for her basket of apples. She insists that they travel with her on the bus. She is really an odd lady, but in a good kind of way. I make another mental note to tell Margaret about the little lady but then I remember. Margaret doesn't like me anymore. Not since I came back.

The senior advisors are all glad that I'm back, but Margaret is still mad at me. She is mad at me because I left, she is mad at me because I left for Dr. Freeride and she is mad at me because I left Josh for Dr. Freeride. She is the most loyal assistant I have ever seen and she accused me of leaving my boss in the lurch when he needed me. And she is certainly right. Of course it would be great if she could actually forgive me for all those things, but it's not gonna happen soon. She is watching me with eagle eyes, following my every movement. And she brought Carol against me. That wasn't really nice but I don't blame them. I guess I have to redeem myself. And I'm working really hard on that. I do everything Josh asks me to do unless of course, he asks for coffee. But everyone knows that's never gonna happen so you can't see that as insubordination or something like that.

Oh, we are here! Hartfield's Landing. The town of 43 voters who, according to Josh, decided who will win these elections. Thank God, they voted for Governor Bartlet. I get off the bus and ask for directions. The little lady with the apple basket directs me to the sheriff's office and after a two minute walk I'm actually standing in front of it. A short, balding man is sitting behind a tattered desk, reading the _Manchester Union Leader_.

"Good afternoon," I greet him. He looks up and then returns to his paper. How very rude! But then he looks up again and jumps to his feet.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he greets me, flicking the rim of his hat. Very western-like and very unusual in New Hampshire. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Sheriff Layton," I tell him. "He asked me to come over with the papers of my car. Apparently it was in a crash, and he needed the ownership papers."

"Oh, yeah. The sheriff is out of town, but he will be back in an hour. Would you like to wait for him here or over in the café?"

"I'll wait in the café, I didn't have lunch to tell the truth," I tell him and then leave the building. Yes, I sent Josh to eat lunch, and I bought myself a sandwich too but I didn't have the chance to eat it. I had to prepare Josh' meeting before I took off at three o'clock.

I step into the little café, and everybody is staring at me. That means five people, three elderly gentlemen at a table, the waitress and the man behind the counter.

"What can I do for you, miss?" The waitress has a friendly face, her graying locks are tamed with a hair band. Her apron is white, and she has a coffee pot in her hands.

"I would like a coffee with milk and maybe something to eat. What would you suggest?"

"You are not from New Hampshire," the man behind the counter says.

"No, sir, I'm from Madison, Wisconsin," I tell him and they are seemingly satisfied with this answer.

"Henry's omelets are pretty good," one of the elderly gentlemen says and I thank him with a smile. He smiles back. These are very friendly people, I think I like this town.

"Yes, the omelets would be good," I tell the waitress, and she relays my words to Henry who obviously heard my words anyway.

"And what brings you into this corner of the world, miss?" the waitress, Sheila according to her nametag, asks while she is pouring me a coffee.

"I'm Donna. And the sheriff asked me here," I tell him.

"That good-for-nothing pig?" the previous elderly gentleman asks.

"I didn't have a chance to meet him, he is out of town," I tell them.

"Out of town, my ass," Sheila says but doesn't elaborate. Hmm, there are obviously some interesting things going on in Hartfield's Landing.

We chat about the weather while I'm waiting for my omelet, and then the conversation turns to the New Hampshire maple syrup. I tell them that I simply love the New Hampshire maple syrup and was just thinking about getting pancakes tomorrow morning. They encourage me to go to the local sugarhouse, just outside of the town. And then my omelet arrives. It's heavenly! I didn't realize I was this hungry but I think I could eat another serving. My plans are thwarted by the sheriff himself. He is tall and freakishly good-looking for a small town sheriff, and I just begin to realize what Sheila meant with her remark, when we arrive back at the sheriff's office. The short, balding man is still reading the _Union Leader_, but puts the paper down when he spots his boss. I steal a glance at the clock on the wall, it's ten past five. I had to leave my wristwatch on Josh's desk because he has a crappy watch and can't keep the time unless I tell him. I hope I find it in one piece when I get back.

"Smitty, I don't want to be disturbed," Sheriff Layton tells his deputy, and we march into his office. "Miss Moss, I'm glad you could come. I hope you weren't too inconvenienced?"

"No, we are back in New Hampshire and I took the bus," I explain, not looking into his eyes. He has dark hair and green eyes. I can tell he's a womanizer, and while my heart is lost to Josh, I'm not blind.

"Did you manage to bring the papers?" he asks formally, and with a nod I hand him the papers.

"These are the photocopies?" he asks.

"Yes, I have the original ones in a safe in Wisconsin," I tell him.

"When can I see those?" he inquires.

"Aren't the photocopies enough?" I ask, to tell the truth, a bit intimated.

"They'll do for the time being, but I'm afraid I need to see the original ones too," he says, but I can tell that he is not really rueful.

"I can't get to my safe in Wisconsin, sir. We are in the middle of a national campaign and I can't leave now," I tell him the truth.

"Miss Moss, you don't want to be charged with obstruction of justice. I guess you are a first time offender, so you could get away with a fine but this is not something to joke about." I can clearly see that he eyes my clothes and shoes, making his decision that I'm not wealthy.

"You don't understand," I try to reason with him, "I'm working for the Governor of New Hampshire."

"So it's him I should call," the sheriff asks, and I know I'm in trouble. I can't possibly do this to Governor Bartlet. He has other things on his mind.

"No, don't call him, please," I plead with him. "I'll ask my mother to send me the papers, or she can send them directly to you."

"I need you to deliver them in person, Miss Moss. You need to sign a form that you handed me the papers over."

"I might not be here when the letter arrives," I try to make him understand and then have an idea. "Can't you give me the form now, and I'll attach it to the letter."

"That would be an art of forgery, Miss Moss. You see, you have to be sure that I received the papers."

Okay, this needs some serious thinking which, I can tell you, I'm not capable of at this time. I should have asked Josh to accompany me. He is a lawyer after all. Or maybe Sam. He is a good lawyer. Josh never really practiced law, but Sam did. He would be able to help me here. Okay, I need to buy time so I have to stall him.

"I'll try to get the papers and deliver them as soon as possible," I promise him, but judging by the look he throws he doesn't believe me.

"You have a week, Miss Moss. Otherwise I have to bring those charges up," Sheriff Layton says, and I can't do anything else but nod. God, I hope that Sam is a really good lawyer, otherwise I'm royally screwed.

"Okay, thank you for coming, Miss Moss. Do you have your ticket back?" he asks me, suddenly very friendly.

"Yes, Sheriff. Thank you," I take my coat and want to leave but he stops me.

"My name is Cole," he whispers and grabs my elbow. Now, I'm really frightened.

"Thank you, Cole," I try to placate him while I'm trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Thank God for Smitty who decides it's time to barge in. I could kiss his balding head right now.

"Thank you," I whisper to no one in particular and then leave the office. I head back to the bus stop and can only hope he doesn't follow. Ten minutes later, I'm really relieved when I see the two of them take off in the sheriff's car.

I still have about forty minutes until the bus arrives so I head back to the little café. Sheila greets me and apparently sees that I'm shaken so she brings me a coffee with rum in it. I thank her for her kindness and then settle down with my novel to wait for the bus. When I check the clock on the wall, I see that it's five past half seven so I have ten minutes to walk back to the bus stop which is a two minutes walk away really. As I step out of the café, it's dark outside already. I see the taillights of a bigger vehicle. Guess that once in a while there is actually traffic in this godforsaken corner of the earth.

I settle down in the bus stop, there is actually a bench here with a little roof over it. Fortunately, because it starts to rain the minute I sit down. Okay, let's see what I have to do when I get back. I should apparently check in with Josh, he might really need me. The crap about working in his hotel room? I don't think so. He just wants to control me. He is a control freak. But so am I, so I can't call the kettle black. Or is it the other way around? Anyways, after checking on Josh, I should head back to my motel, I have laundry to do and certainly a lot of catching up in terms of news. You cannot believe what can happen in the short hours of an afternoon.

Hey, what was that? And again. A shiver. But why I'm shivering? Oh, my gosh! The roof is leaking, and the water is actually dripping onto my coat which is now totally soaked in rain. This day just keeps getting better and better. I stand up to find a spot where the roof isn't leaking, and I watch from there as the guests pile out of the café and I watch Henry and Sheila leaving not long after. I guess Sheila and Henry are husband and wife, and I'm really touched to see them leaving together. They really look cute together, and even from the distance I can see from their posture that they are bantering. Okay, maybe I'm projecting a little, but don't blame me. I have a soaked coat, the bus is late, the local sheriff was hitting on me and I'm probably going to be charged with obstruction of justice. Not my day of jubilee.

Oh, my gosh! I've just realized something. The taillights before? The bus isn't late, it came earlier. Or the café's watch sucks. It doesn't matter anymore, I'm here in the middle of nowhere, having no place to go to unless you count the sheriff's office, but I'll definitely not go back there. I honestly feel that I'm gonna lose it. This is a crappy day, I want Josh! I want Josh! Where is he when I need him? I'm always there when he needs me. Why couldn't he offer to accompany me, why didn't he offer his car? Why is he acting like he doesn't care about me. And that's when a little voice tells me that he doesn't care about me. At least not the way I would want it. I know that I shouldn't have fallen in love with my boss, but I thought he considers me a friend at least. But I guess I was wrong. I'm nothing more than a secretary who doesn't bring coffee. Dear God, please help me, I promise you I'll bring Josh coffee 'til the end of times if you help me now. Okay, maybe for a week. I promise to work harder and I promise to help Toby to find a new secretary. Two new secretaries who won't fall in love with Sam!

First a little Ford and then a pickup drive by, but I don't care. They wouldn't take me, I must look disheveled and probably crazy, standing here around, huddled in the corner of the bus stop.

"Miss, do you need help?" I hear a deep, rich voice and I see a friendly face in front of me.

"I guess so," I say after a sniff. When did I start crying? I don't remember anymore.

"What's the problem?" this is the voice of a young woman, probably still in high school.

"I told you to stay in the car, Jennifer," the man tells her, and I guess he is her father.

"Miss, we could take you to our house and you could phone someone to get you or you could stay with us for the night. You missed the bus, right?"

"Yes, sir," I say with a nod and follow him to his car. There is an older woman there, her face looks worried.

"Thank God I saw you, Miss," she says when I climb into the car. "What were you doing there alone in the rain?"

"She missed the bus, Roberta," his husband informs her and he starts the engine. "Miss, this is my wife Roberta Flender. My name is Mackey Flender."

"Donna Moss. I'm with the Governor's campaign," I tell them, I don't why I add the last line, but it seemed right.

"Governor Bartlet?" Roberta asks me. "But you weren't with him in January, I can't remember you."

"No, I joined the campaign in February," I tell them. No need to elaborate that I left the campaign for a while. "Thank you for stopping for me. It had been really a bad day."

"Yeah, I can see that," Roberta says, and our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. "What happened?"

"I was asked here by Sheriff Layton. He was out of town but when he came back we went to his office. He needed some papers from me," I try to tell the story without emotions.

"Did he make a pass at you, dear?" Roberta asks, and now I'm really losing it. She is so kind when she turns and looks at me. I can only nod, the tears sting my eyes, and there is a lump in my throat. I want Josh! Where is he when I need him? "He is a good-for-nothing Republican womanizer," comes Roberta's verdict, and it just makes me feel slightly better. Josh would wholeheartedly concur with this verdict.

We arrive at a little house, and the little Ford is already there. When we step inside, I'm greeted with a familiar scent. It smells like home. Not my home, just like home. You know. Or maybe you don't, but it doesn't matter. I know that these are good people, their house smells good, and they are friendly and caring Democrats. Jennifer hands me a mug full of tea and that's when I totally lose it. They are too kind. Roberta tries to ask me for a phone number, but I can't remember anymore. I only remember the name of Josh's hotel and although Mackey is standing next to me with the phone, I hear him as if his voice is coming from a distance. I can hear him discussing something with the concierge but I can't really concentrate on what's going on as I'm bawling into my mug of tea. Jennifer looks frightened, and her mom sends her to her room.

"I'm sorry," I manage to say between sobs.

"Nothing to be sorry for, dear," Roberta says, and I register that she pats my back. "Holy Hannah! You are soaked. Get out of your coat, dear!" she orders me, and I obey.

Mackey is gone, but I'm still sitting in the kitchen, crying into my mug. Roberta is preparing dinner for the family and asks me if I want anything. I shake my head but then accept some cookies when she puts a plate in front of me. The cookies are definitely doing the trick because I feel relaxed.

"What was in this tea?" I ask, eyeing the tea suspiciously.

"Just a little rum," Roberta tells me with a wink. I smile at her and lean back in my chair.

"Thank you. For everything. And sorry that I lost it in front of your daughter, I know I must have been a frightening sight," I tell her and offer my apologies.

"Nothing to be ashamed of dear, everybody can have a bad day," Roberta reassures me and then calls Jennifer and Mackey into the kitchen. They don't have a dining room, but the kitchen is big enough to hold a table for four. I talk to Jennifer about her school, and later Mackey tells me how they helped Governor Bartlet during the New Hampshire primary. I feel like I'm with my family. Not with my family in Wisconsin, but like with my second family on the campaign. Mackey offers me some rum, this time without tea and I accept. I deserve it after this day. I tell them about my day, and they are very sympathetic. They are telling me about their tackle shop just outside of town, near the lake. They have tourists there in the summer. That's when we hear the knocking on the door. Mackey answers the door and I hear Josh's voice.

They both come back into the kitchen, and I lose it again. Seeing Josh there, knowing that he has come for me is too much to bear. I feel my body shaking and my tears rolling down my face again, but I'm not exactly aware of my environment anymore. All I see is Josh and all I can think of is Josh.

"Donna, are you okay?" I hear his voice as if he was speaking from a tunnel, and I shake my head. I'm definitely not okay. He is standing next to my chair, and I encircle his waist with my arms, resting my face on his stomach. I'm clinging to him as if he were my lifeline. Which he kinda is. I hear that he is asking questions but I'm not able to answer them. Then I feel his hands on my head, they are caressing me. I'm safe now. I have found my haven. My thoughts are somewhat clearer now.

"How much did she drink?" I hear Josh asking, and want to complain. Apparently, he thinks that I'm drunk, and I want to tell him that I only had some tea with rum when I realize that I act pretty strange. Okay, he can think that I'm a bit drunk; I can bear the teasing for a week or so. After all, he came to save me. I hear them talking about me, but I don't participate in the conversation. I inhale Josh's scent and I just enjoy his closeness. After a while he pulls me up and escorts me outside, wrapping his nice, strong arms around me. Roberta comes after us, carrying my coat. I say my thanks again and promise to call tomorrow.

"So, Donnatella, what do I do with you know?" Josh asks when we are sitting in the car. It's not his car, it's Sam's.

"This isn't your car," I state the obvious, still somewhat fazed.

"I know, it's Sam's car," he tells me and starts the engine. "Home it is then."

"I don't know. Where is home?" I ask him the question but don't await an answer. It comes nonetheless. Trust Josh to speak when not expected and keep his silence when they want him to talk. Like Mandy. But we don't want to go there.

"Home is where the heart is, Donna. Didn't you learn anything in those two years of five majors and two minors?" He is mocking me? He is mocking me in my time of torment?

"It's not nice mocking people when they are down, Joshua," I tell him, and he looks over to me.

"Tell me what happened, Donna," he orders me, and I obey again. I watch his face when I tell him about the sheriff, and for a reason beyond understanding I'm glad that his face contorts with anger.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard!" he exclaims when I tell him about the sheriff's advances.

"Do I have to bring him the papers personally, Josh? I don't want to go back to his office. Ever," I tell Josh in a desperate tone.

"Donna, I would never let you go back," he says, and I could kiss him right now. "We will ask Sam tomorrow what you can do about this."

"Okay. Thank you for coming for me," I tell him and turn around to look out of the window, waiting for his scolding. Because he didn't do that tonight. There was compassion, kindness, chivalry even, but no scolding. That's not Josh.

"Donna, look at me," he demands, but I refuse.

"I'm sorry for everything," I murmur as a peace offering, I don't want him to scold with me.

"Donna, this wasn't your fault. Okay, the bus maybe," he corrects when I throw him a quizzical look, "but even that, you couldn't have known that the bus leaves earlier. And you are absolutely not responsible for the deeds of one local sheriff. He is a good-for-nothing Republican womanizer," he repeats Roberta's line, and I have to chuckle.

"What are you laughing at, Donna?" he asks me.

"I knew you would somehow manage to interpret this trip as a clash in times of the Great Democrat-Republican War," I tell him, and he smiles.

"Republicans are bad, Donna," he says, and this time I wholeheartedly agree. I don't care if my mother is among them. We didn't get along too much anyway. "Listen, when we get back, I want you to move into the hotel. And I want you to always have a room in the same hotel I do."

"I don't have that much money, Josh," I whisper and hope against hope that he didn't hear me.

"I don't know, team up with Margaret and Carol, I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

"Margaret is still mad at me," I admit, and that makes him turn to me. "Watch the road," I warn him gently, and he turns back to the wheel.

"Why is she mad at you?"

"I left the campaign, I betrayed the Governor. I left for Dr. Freeride, so I betrayed the Sisterhood too. And I left you, so I betrayed my boss. I guess that sums it up," I add bitterly. Honestly, I see where Margaret is coming from, but I don't want to bolt again, I found my calling and I found love even if it's unrequited.

"Why can't she forgive you? The Governor welcomed you back, CJ is talking to you and I've forgiven you a long time ago," he whispers.

"Have you?" I ask back unsurely.

"The moment I saw you in the office again, Donna," he admits, and my heart is beating so fast, I have to clutch my chest to slow it down.

"Everything alright?" he asks me concerned, and now I know why I'm in love with him. He is the best, the most sympathetic and the most caring friend ever. Yes, we are friends. But that's enough for today. I can face another day with my friend, Joshua Lyman on my side.

"Yeah, everything alright. I hope I won't come down with the flu or something," I tell him, and I get another concerned look.

"I'll talk to Margaret and end this ridiculous thing," he promises.

"You mean Sam," I correct him, and he nods.

"Yeah, I'll talk to Sam too, but I will also talk to Margaret, she can't hold a grudge against you on my behalf when I already forgave you a long time ago."

"Thank you, Josh," I say and lean over to paste a light kiss on his cheek. So what if I grabbed his thighs in the process? I kinda had to, otherwise I might have crashed into him. Not that it would have been so bad. "And tomorrow evening we are cleaning out your car," I add with a chuckle.

"How could you possible know?" Josh asks flabbergasted.

"Let that be my little secret, Josh," I say with a mysterious smile.

**THE END**

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